Pontus
SWRP Writer
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2019
- Messages
- 75
- Reaction score
- 27
Biographical Information
Homeworld
Age
Faction
Rank
Force
Level
Handed
Corellia
26 GSY
Independent
Mercenary
No
1
Right
Age
Faction
Rank
Force
Level
Handed
Corellia
26 GSY
Independent
Mercenary
No
1
Right
Physical Description
Species
Gender
Height
Mass
Hair Color
Eye Color
Human
Male
187 cm
92 kg
Blond
Cobalt
Gender
Height
Mass
Hair Color
Eye Color
Human
Male
187 cm
92 kg
Blond
Cobalt
x
Morgan
Arcas
Morgan
Arcas
.⋉ ⋊
Weapons:
- One ZA-44
⇁ Two Power Packs - One E-33 Carbine
⇁ Two Power Packs - One MH55
⇁ 1 Power Pack - One Vibroblade
⇁ Knife Aesthetic
- Ranger Scout Armour
⇁ Overcoat, Simple clothing
- Nexus Class Light Freighter, The Old Dog
- Shark SG-426
- BIOGRAPHY
-
Morgan Arcas was born in Corellia, to your run-of-the-mill blue collar family. Being the third youngest of 4 siblings, the individual was never the big brother, nor the sheltered child. And, despite having a solid head on his shoulders and a particularly athletically inclined body, the truth was, he was never so terrible that he required assistance, nor did he shine so brilliantly that he needed to be nurtured… Perhaps that was his foil, in the end. His parents, who worked hard to put food on the table didn’t require much of him, considering his young age, and didn’t dote on him as much as they did his younger sister. So, as can be the case with certain children who feel starved for attention, he began to act out.
Initially, it was small stuff. Your classic childish shenanigans. Unfortunately, the boy was too young to understand that, when certain cycles begin, they’re not so easily stopped. As days turned into months and the pranks kept rolling in, the young Arcas was quickly dubbed the black sheep of the family.
So, when infancy turned into adolescence and the raging hormones induced the all too common rebellious stage, an otherwise kind kid began to degenerate. His tall stature, quick wit and scrappy personality caught the eye of the wrong crowd and careless pranks turned into boosting speeders and the occasional fight. This, of course, furthered his ‘black sheep’ status, which in turn fed into his dislike of authority. Had someone realised this, perhaps the teen could’ve been turned around. Sadly, by the time anyone had, it was too late. The process had already started. So, on the young Morgan’s 17th year, on the nth night he’d stumbled home with bruised knuckles and a bloodied lip, his father flipped. The boy, on the verge of becoming a man, now found himself both figuratively and literally with his back against the wall, receiving an ultimatum from the second most authoritative voice in the house (Mom was, of course, number one): He either got his act together, or he would no longer be a member of the family.
Being the self-pitying idiot he was at the time, the boy sat with this stewing in his mind for a few days and then ultimately rallied those of his ‘crew’ that were ‘real’ enough to leave their homes and set out into the galaxy to make something out of themselves. The goal was to do what they wanted to, when they wanted to do it, and to ‘not take nothing from none’.
Needless to say, everything went according to plan. Most of the members who followed him there are now dead and the boy, now a 26 year-old man, can be found in Nar Shaddaa, the hub of every shithead who, like Arcas, firmly believed at some point in their lives that the world theirs and that all they had to do was take it. Having spent two years as something vaguely resembling an indentured servant to a low-level band of thugs and the six years after that as a soldier of fortune - well… minus the fortune and, for the most part, the training - the individual now finds himself too far gone into the world of violence and questionable morality to return home and, now an adult, prepares to seek out his place in the galaxy.
x - APPEARANCE
-
A tall physique coated in lean, functional muscle, fair, lightly sun-kissed skin, a chiselled jawline with cheekbones to match, a full head of wild, wavy hair mostly comprised of golds, light browns and the occasional reddish strands, and a beard that likewise verges on the untamed, come together to frame thin, pale lips, a straight, slightly upturned nose and a set of blue eyes that shimmer with the occasional glint of danger.
Despite by no means being attractive enough to stop traffic, in another life perhaps this ruggedly handsome individual might’ve found himself a nice, cushy job as the face of some lesser known resort. Instead, when not donning his scout armour, the man can be seen sporting a long, thick overcoat draped around practical clothing, that among other things cover a cornucopia of scars and burn marks, mostly the results of close calls and stupid mistakes that the better part of a decade in Mercenary business are certain to bring. Likewise, this fun, wild, roguish aura that the man oozes has been tinged by violence and now gives off a sense of callousness that can make him a little less approachable to those of a more reputable variety.
x - PERSONALITY
-
To this working class young man, delving into the Mercenary world was no easy task. With his newfound lifestyle came savagery and hardship that this particular someone in the dawn of adulthood didn’t take to easily.
The first lessons this new life taught him were humility and patience. They were some of the harshest, but also some of the more valuable things he’s picked up to this day. Though his bravery and impetuousness still manifest, from time to time, the adult Arcas has since broadened his horizons and realised his limitations.
As an individual facing death on a semi-regular basis, it can be easy to let oneself be crushed under the weight of it all. So, ironically, the very traits that originally led him astray - a sly, quick wit and a hint of roguish charm - have now become things he relies on to secure his state of mind. The Mercenary also developed ways to cope that are all too familiar to those in his line of work. A dark, caustic sense of humour, able to make light of and cut through some of the tensest situations, and a reverence of stories. Either by sharing his own, or attentively listening to those of others… Also, the bottle. That certainly doesn’t hurt.
But not all change was necessarily positive. Ultimately, Morgan has taken to this life of violence. Cruelty and callousness have begun to take root.
In more recent years, a time marked by introspection, and having had the opportunity to work with individuals higher up in the food chain, the Mercenary has come to realise the importance of knowledge and presentation. That simply put, those who look or act like animals tend to be treated as such. In hopes of counteracting these tendencies, Morgan has placed great effort in emulating those he believes to have had significant martial training and stand classes above him. Changes have begun to show in things like his posture, which is significantly straighter than before, and in his speech. After months of hardship, the Mercenary has made enormous strides in expunging his Basic of the many colloquialisms he had picked up in Hutt Space and in returning to the neutral accent found in his home planet of Corellia. The man now strives to think before speaking, even going as far as remitting himself to silence if nothing suitable can be found.
That being said, improving in this dog-eat-dog world is no easy feat and frankly, old habits do tend to die hard. So, every now and again, something is bound to slip through the cracks.
x - ABILITIES
-
Despite his tall frame and powerful build, Morgan is in sincere lack of actual training in martial arts. As a result, in order to stay alive, the man quickly learned the value of tools. Having always had good reflexes and with a few years under his belt of practicing his aim on live targets who tend to shoot back, the Mercenary has achieved some level of proficiency with firearms. That said, this is a scrappy, strong and agile individual, so on the off chance that a brawl does break out, he can be a force to be reckoned with, for those that either underestimate him or likewise lack proper teaching.
Morgan has grown to become a skilled speeder pilot and is making strides in navigation of the outer space variety. To him, ‘flight’ has been every bit as crucial as ‘fight’ in having stayed alive thus far. As such, expect the man to travel light and keep a bug-out bag close at hand.
x - THREADS
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x
x
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